<———-Day 230 Day 231——–>
I am told that if this was not winter and the village had not recently infected with cholera that the local merchant would be dropping in today.
Be it curiosity or a chance to get warm, my little shower got its first male satyr visitor today. Just like the women he has no problem displaying his body in public. I just wish he didn’t show it to me.
I have to see if those satyr women have an extra stomach, the guy is hung. (No I am not gay.)
Unlike the women who traded me a small lock of for the use of my shower; this guy had some serious problems with giving a DNA sample.
It turns out that giving a lock of your wool to a member of the opposite sex meant that you were interested in that person as a sexual partner. It also turns out that I am rich.
A man who owns his own home, a cart, and has two servants is classified as kingly around these parts.
No wonder all the men hate me, they think I am after their women.
I told the naked goat man that I was using the DNA for research purposes, which lead to an inquisition as to what I was researching.
As this is not private information I showed the guy what I found out. I also told him that I was able to figure out that person’s genealogy, the potential for disease, poisons, and if he got me just a drop of blood I could tell him who it belonged to.
I told him that the village will need to bring in some new blood soon or there will be a village full of inbreeds. From what I was seeing everyone was related to everyone here.
This got him worried and for good reason.
As a rule a village is a tight community. Outsiders are seen as troublemakers and those who leave are seen as deserters and traitors.
I told him that this was the reason my team suggested to vacate to greener pastures. The village is too intermingled to sustain itself, but they are stubborn goats.
Seeing that I am not about to ask him for his DNA, I instead trade him information.
My predecessor was a satyr nanny named Elizaveta. Which is a pain to write so I just call her Eli.
Eli lived out in the wood in a hermit style shake. A spinster with troubles with authority, she preferred the company of her plants. There was a lot of stuff about rumours but it all lead to one fact.
Her place was going to be a bitch to get to.
I ask the guy, whose name is Roman what he does. It turned out he and his family have been carpenters. He also told me his great-great-grandfather was the one who put up the first building up and cut the first tree.
Though it is a little late for me to be asking it, I enquired about what the villages think of me.
Roman locked up so I sweetened him up with a hot banana muffin. I swear from his expression he looked as if he was rethinking giving me his wool.
Not surprising the males of the village see me as pond scum, and that I am having full out orgies with their wives in here. Roman didn’t care what the females thought but said if I touched a certain female he would break every bone in my body and stomp on some important reproduction organs.
The droids received mixed feelings. The satyrs know they are unnatural but are keeping their pitchforks on standby for now. As long as they continue to keep the village running nobody is ready to complain, and as long that I don’t accidently tell the droids to eat one of the satyrs’ children we should be pretty set.
He told me another interesting thing.
Tomorrow a new chief will be decided but it won’t be much of a contest.
Not counting the people out in the farms and homesteads there are only 15 Lingos in the village, and Roman’s father is the main contender.
Roman had made things clear. If the chief says I am out, I’m out.
Roman had asked me something else. He asked that when (Not if) I leave, will I be taking any body with me?
I told him no.